I’ve been reluctant to humour gossip within the community, or to jump to conclusions about the whereabouts of these individuals. I’ve definitely been reluctant to assume that any of these cases are connected. In an era of wall-to-wall network procedurals and the fetishization of serial murder, everyone believes that they are an expert on criminal behaviour. Social media only makes this worse by arming individuals with a platform on which to spread misinformation, debate morbid details, or to turn real human trauma into an online game of Clue. “Well, of course there’s a serial killer! This is just like that episode of My Favorite Murder! Or, wait, Hannibal? You get it.”

And even with the complex relationship that the gay community has with local law enforcement, I have been confident that the police are on top of things. (Perhaps that is naive, I know.) In the media, Toronto Police have taken a firm stance on the cases, and are ready to dispel rumours. They set up a specific task force and are armed with information on the cases that is inaccessible to the public. They are the experts, and so I trust them.

THE FACTS: Media reported that Richey and a close friend left a local gay bar intoxicated, and met up with two strangers. They were together until about 3am, when the friend left to catch a streetcar. Richey was apparently with one of these individuals until somewhere between 4 and 5am. Then she disappeared. But she left behind a trail of information via apps, including her FitBit and a 4am missed ride from an Uber. Her mother even had a last address from the family’s shared Uber account – 50 Dundonald Street, near the intersection of Dundonald and Church Street.

Except that wasn’t the case at all. A post-mortem determined that Richey had died of compression to the neck. She had been murdered, and the case was being taken over by the homicide division. They had been wrong.

But instead, there’s a general sense that the police aren’t really doing anything to help, and that the systemic homophobia present in the force is alive and well, despite claims to the contrary. That for all of the political talking points and flag waving, queer people are still at risk and no one really cares.

It also shines an uncomfortable light on the previous cases, and reignites recent controversies:

Did the police mishandle the disappearances of Skandaraj Navaratnam, Abdulbasir Faizi and Majeed Kayhan?

Is something being actively done in the Andrew Kinsman and Selim Esen cases?

What about the discovery of Alloura Wells, and the disappearance of other queer people in the community?

Are these slights the result of friction between the queer community and a police force still angry over the Black Lives Matter protest?

And finally:

Is there a serial killer (or killers) stalking the Church-Wellesley neighbourhood, and are people still at risk? And does the community need to take action in order to prevent more missing people?

In the gay village last night, police cars were parked on every corner, with officers walking the beat and speaking to local business owners. There is a clear attempt by the force to establish a visible presence, whether that be to locate those responsible for Richey’s murder or to deter future crime and protect citizens.